Where Hearts Touch
by nonsequiturvy
Summary: The many ways that Robin said "I love you," and one time that Regina finally said it back. Outlaw Bandit. Missing Year. Storybrooke. Dark OQ.


**a|n:** for **dee-thequeenbee**.

* * *

 _i. i loved you first (but)_

* * *

They were not friends, she and that smug thorn-in-her-side, who never met a vault or a jewel he didn't mistakenly take to be his. Friends didn't steal, at least not from each other, and they certainly weren't supposed to gloat about it either – much like the way that damn Robin of Locksley was always so helpfully pointing out how his wanted posters vastly outnumbered hers.

It seemed to be more than a habit for him, to find every way to get under her skin, but the day that she thought to return the favor did not go quite as planned – guards that neither of them had accounted for descending upon them from every direction – and as they scattered into the woods, Robin's satchel came loose, spilling out dozens of sheets of (it couldn't be) _her_. Wanted, for crimes against the Queen, and worth even more of a fortune alive.

It was the deepest form of treachery in her eyes, that he would have endeavored to hide this from her. But without so much as a sorry, Robin grabbed for his papers and then for her hand, tugging them hastily onward as he said into her ear, "Can't get caught if they don't have a face to your name."

"And what about _your_ stupid face?" Regina demanded, hating how uncertain she sounded even as her steps fell in perfect tandem with his – as though she would have followed him anywhere – but there was no time to think too hard on what this could mean.

Robin had caught an arm around her waist before she even realized what she'd tripped on, and at the sound of his whistle there came a cantering of hooves in response, his grip on her tightening as he prepared to hoist her upward. "They needed _some_ one to chase after, didn't they?"

They were not friends, exactly, never that, but this…this was something else, something she didn't know how to even begin understanding, and as Robin settled one hand more firmly at her hip and reached for the reins with the other, there were no more questions, only the wind on her skin, pressing them close as they took off in pursuit of the sun.

…

"Are we there yet?" she heard a grumble come from behind her, in a voice that she couldn't quite place – one of that thief's many sidekicks, no doubt, given the obvious shortage on manners – and she was fully prepared not to bother with him when that voice carried on in an overloud whisper, "How do we know the Evil Queen's not leading us straight into a trap?"

Regina didn't quite catch what the thief had to say in response – Snow was endeavoring to catch her eye, offering one of those too-gentle smiles that was just as unwelcome to her at the moment – but the grouching ceased after that, and their company walked on in a cramped kind of silence while Regina did her best to not set anything on fire.

They were stopped at a stream, debating whether or not to camp there for the night, when they heard the first rumblings of thunder above them. That seemed to settle the issue, and as the thief's men began hurriedly unpacking their tent sacks (Charming and Snow dashing off to gather wood before the whole forest got soaked), that same mouthy ingrate from earlier was overheard griping, "I thought she had magic. What, is she too good now to do something about this storm?"

Because Snow wasn't looking, and because, well, why the hell not, Regina – with a grim satisfaction – waved her hand and a bubble spread out of the sky, enveloping their entire encampment. The raindrops bounced off of its surface with tiny _ping_ s save for one spot that her magic had just so happened to overlook, right above that ungrateful man's head.

While he sputtered in protest, Regina swept away from the group and sat herself onto a log, glaring out at the forest and hardly bothering to care when the rain came down on her too. Behind her, she could hear a small child – the thief's – dancing circles inside the orb she'd created, and her body felt impossibly heavy all of a sudden, moving away to find other shelter an insurmountable task.

All she'd wanted was a moment alone in her castle, where the grief she'd been carrying around would feel right at home again, but even this was apparently too much to ask.

It was then that she noticed the thief by her side – the Charmings would have sent him to fetch her, no doubt – and she was about to make him regret ever breathing when he shrugged out of his cloak, draping it around her shoulders before she could guess what he was up to. He lifted the hood over her head next, taking care to disturb not a hair, and then he stepped back as the rain splattered onto his clothes, already dripping down the sides of his face as he nodded to her.

"Your Majesty," was all he said, his tone neither questioning nor expecting anything of her, simply letting her be as she stared after him, and this was nowhere close to the solace her castle would bring her but – she supposed – perhaps it could do for now.

…

She slept like the dead that night.

Zelena had given her a good tossing up and down Main Street, and Regina awoke well past the time she would have normally thought to set her alarm, blinking out the sun in her eyes for long minutes before realizing what had pulled her from sleep.

Someone was causing quite a stir in her yard – gleefully so, at the sound of it – and it should have concerned her, these mischievous noises (she glanced at her clock) before half the town had even woken. But there was something familiar in their strangeness, as though she'd heard them once in a dream…

Robin's boy was galloping around and around her apple tree when Regina stepped onto her porch, his father already coaxing him back with a guilty expression as though he'd known they were about to get caught.

Roland had helped himself to an armful of apples, but at the gentle behest of his father was now obediently returning them one-by-one to the ground, and Regina hesitated a moment before quietly telling him, "I don't mind."

"I didn't think you would," Robin admitted, and she didn't know whether to laugh or to scowl at him when he ruefully showed her the half-bitten core of an apple he'd been hiding down by his side. "Come along, my boy, we've bothered our good Mayor long enough – let's not forget we've another tree that needs our protecting this morning."

"That one doesn't have any apples on it," Roland remarked, just a bit sullen, and Robin looked back at Regina.

"No," he agreed. "Something even more valuable, I daresay."

After a nudge, Roland turned to wave a shy little goodbye to Regina, and as his father took his arm she caught a flash of something red in the boy's other hand, a glint and then gone as it slipped out of sight into one of his pockets.

She could feel the weight of Robin's dimples winking back in her direction as she bent down, busied herself with retrieving an apple (one that had not fallen far from the tree, it turned out), and smiled.

…

He could not seem to stop smirking at her, licking his lips as he reached over to refill her pint, and if not for the warmth in his gaze (fast-spreading elsewhere at that), she might have thought to teach this Robin of Locksley some manners as far as the Queen was concerned.

"What?" she asked him at last. The grin he gave her was positively boyish, disappearing behind his cup for a moment, though it did nothing to hide how his eyes kept crinkling at her. And it was so new to her, all of this, sharing a drink and stealing more glances at one another, that she could only sip on her ale and wonder at how very young he made her feel simply by looking in her direction.

She hadn't come with a plan, apart from knowing this – them – and how they might fit together, and the night felt endless with the way he bit his lip, gazing at her like he'd been given a second chance at things too, and nothing would stop them, not even—

The tavern door was clacking shut, bringing in a fresh wave of noise, and a wobbly-drunk exclamation of "Bloody hell, is that – is that the Evil Queen?" that had Robin tensing, clenching his jaw as he turned toward the door.

"Robin," she said, but he had already shoved his bench back, unsheathing a blade from his belt. He had the man flattened against the wall, choking around the dagger pressed flush to his throat, when she came up behind them and said, more sternly this time, "Robin."

At least take it outside like civilized people, is what she'd meant to continue with, but when he craned back she thought maybe he'd mistakenly seen the Regina in her for a moment, and with a greatly strained effort he released the man, letting him crumple with a cough to the floor.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Robin asked her, but there was something guarded in his expression now, refusing to abate even as she took his arm and looked expectantly at the door in answer.

"Look," he started once they were in the alleyway, "I wouldn't have _killed_ him, if that's what you're—"

"You couldn't have made him bleed just a little?" she asked him with the slightest pout, and he slackened his jaw at her, his gaze darkening in the most delicious of ways.

"My apologies, I had assumed—" but she never allowed him to finish, fisting her hands into his shirt and pulling him down to her. Their lips found each other's as though this was not the first time they'd done this, but there was also a carefulness she hadn't expected from him, a gentle holding back until she opened her mouth to welcome him in, and every hesitation fell away as he drew her up in his arms, tongue sliding heatedly over hers with a half-strangled sound in his throat.

"That's the one," he husked as they parted, and she couldn't know what he meant by this – by the something like relief she thought she might have heard for a second – but she did know her answer when he twined their hands together, nudged his forehead into hers and whispered, "Are you ready?"

* * *

 _ii. afterwards your love outsoaring mine_

* * *

It was, without a doubt, one of their more ill-advised ventures to date, but Will Scarlet had sworn by his "sources," and gods forbid Robin not give the boy a chance – which was why Regina vowed to put an end to this man once and for all, after she got them out of this mess that he'd sanctioned.

"Your source didn't think to mention the fact that we were stealing from a _dragon_?" Robin was shouting irritably at Will, who did not have the opportunity to defend himself before another burst of flames had incinerated the tapestries they'd briefly crouched by for shelter.

A deafening roar shook the castle apart, from floor to ceiling to the very air they breathed in, and they scattered in every direction for cover. Regina ducked beside a wardrobe, scanning the state of the room, when suddenly Robin was tackling her sideways, knocking the both of them over.

"Do you _mind_?" she grit out, shoving him off of her, just as a mound of rubble came showering down on the ground where she'd been standing not seconds before. The wardrobe teetered and then, with a loud creaking groan, toppled onto the wreckage and splintered apart.

"Come on," Robin gasped through the cloud of debris, hauling her up by the hand, and she wondered, not for the first time (not that she'd ever admit it), if she would only ever allow him to reach for her like this when there was something to run from involved.

The running did not stop until they were well under cover of the trees. Regina could still feel the _whoosh_ of the dragon circling them overhead, but she did not seem keen on burning down a whole forest in pursuit of a few pesky humans, snorting her displeasure after a moment and drawing back with a flap of her great, scaly wings.

Once the air had settled, Regina turned on Robin with all the fire-breathing might of her own (this was entirely his fault, after all), ready to tear him in two with some choice words she would try not to regret too much later. But the look on his face caught her off guard, and she forgot her own voice as he lifted his hand and carefully swiped a thumb across her cheek, brushing away the soot there.

"You look terrible," he remarked, dropping his hand back down. "We ought to get you cleaned up. Shall we stop by Granny's on our way back to camp?" He was sauntering off before she could gather back the breath to destroy him, and oh how she would enjoy the moment when she brought this man to his knees at last.

…

She was going to kill him. That is, if her sister's winged monkeys didn't get to him first.

"It was _my_ turn to stand watch," seethed Regina, glaring down at the grounds as a distinctly Robin-shaped figure patrolled around with one of his men. "I specifically told him—"

"Isn't it always your turn?" asked Snow as she came pattering into the room, a tray of tea balanced over her belly, and Regina, greatly in need of an audience for all her indignation, whirled on her next.

"Don't tell me you trust our neanderthal guests to keep this castle safe at night. If you can even call them a step above those primates – at least _they_ know how to fly."

But Snow refused to engage her, pouring out two porcelain cups and passing one over to Regina. "Here. Drink this."

Regina drank, steaming all the while, and then she marched with purpose toward the doorway, announcing that she would simply have to call the thief in for questioning just as he was rounding the corner himself.

His sudden appearance startled her so thoroughly that she spilled the rest of her tea onto him, too stunned to resist when he collected the cup from her hands and set it down onto a table. "You summoned for me?" he asked, tone wry.

Unbelievable, this man. "If you're here," and she jabbed an accusing finger into his chest, "then who's out _there_ —" she gestured dramatically back at the window she'd been lurking by earlier "—keeping watch?"

"I was getting Little John situated," he explained to her patiently, head at a curious tilt as he eyed her more carefully than before. "And then I thought I'd come talk you down from whatever violent end you must have already planned for the both of us."

"Like you know me so well," Regina snarled at him, but it came out a bit slurred, and then, to her absolute horror, she seemed to lose control of her feet, stumbling most unwillingly forward as Robin's arms closed on instinct around her.

Through the edges of her blackening vision Regina could just make out the way he glanced at the tea cup, then back at her before rounding on Snow. "What have you done?" he demanded, voice heating.

That traitor, thought Regina vaguely. Well, she supposed she would have to kill her too, once she…after…

"We talked about this," Robin was near to growling now, the words a rumbling hum in his chest, and Regina tried to get closer, feeling his hands shift, steadying, all over her back in response. "I recall saying under no circumstances—"

"She wasn't going to give in," Snow shot back. "You and I both know that. She needed this, Robin."

He shook his head, and Regina thought she might have imagined the way his cheek pressed into her hair for a moment. "Not like this."

She noticed the floor lifting away from her feet, everything turning sideways for what might have been five seconds or five hundred of them – but then they swayed to a stop and all of his warmth was leaving her as some cushiony something grounded her body instead, and she frowned, reaching for him—

"Robin?"

"Get some rest, darling." She felt the words more than she heard them, caressing gently over her temple, and her eyes closed before she could ask him to stay.

…

"Can they spend the night, Mom? Pleeeease?"

Three sets of eyes were suddenly on her, and she looked between them all with open disbelief. "You just met," she reminded her son. "Today, as a matter of fact."

Henry grinned and shrugged and returned, "I know," looking down as Roland gave an urgent tug on his coat sleeve. The boy gestured pointedly toward the duck pond, where all the ducks were evidently not going to be feeding themselves, and Henry nodded understandingly to him. "Doesn't really feel like it though."

"I think I know that feeling myself," said Robin, idly scratching a thumb over his upper lip and glancing sidelong in Regina's direction. She found she had to look away for a moment, a smile trying very hard to break though as she tucked back a strand of hair by her ear.

"Mom, please." The look Henry gave her was heartbreakingly earnest, and she could not forget that she'd just gotten him back for a price, standing aside while he said goodbye to a father who'd barely been more than a stranger to him.

"Well," Regina said, "I suppose one night would be fine, so we can all get to know one another. But there will be some ground rules—" which nobody would have heard anyway, because Henry and Roland were already taking off with a heel of bread split between them, laughing giddily all the way.

A rush of warmth spilled into her chest, and it didn't help matters when Robin drew closer, every memory of the year – of the man – she'd been missing finally settling back into place when she'd never have guessed her heart could fill up this way.

"Hi," he said, those dimples of his winking most boldly at her, and shouldn't a year of him doing this have made her more immune to it, somehow?

"Hi yourself."

He reached for her hand, lacing their fingers together. "I told you we'd see each other again."

"That's…not exactly how I remember it," she said, gently teasing, but something like shyness held her back from anything more than that with him, for now.

"We'll need snacks," Henry was saying wisely as they brushed off the last of their breadcrumbs, with Roland gazing up at him all the while, rapt and unblinking. "Lots of snacks. I'm thinking chips, and cookies, and – hmm, I wonder what else you didn't have in the Enchanted Forest."

"Allow me to supervise the preparations," Robin murmured into Regina's ear when he caught her making a strained little grimace. He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead before jogging up to the boys – it was probably ridiculous of her, to feel like she'd misplaced something when her hand slipped out of his – and she watched the three of them go, and thought perhaps she could use some time alone anyway, almost dreading the moment she let herself get used to all this.

She was readying the guest room, wondering as absentmindedly as she could whether she should make up the bed for one or for two, when the front door opened again, filling her mansion with an unfamiliar abundance of sounds – of two boys and a father, Robin's voice booming over them both to unpack their loot in the kitchen.

It was an impressive array of the worst kinds of food, all of them beaming when she mentioned as much, until she spied a box of doughnuts shoved innocuously off to one corner.

"Isn't that place closed on Sundays?" Regina asked in a very dry tone, raising a brow when Henry hastily pocketed a piece of thin silver metal and side-eyed Robin for help.

"Is it?" asked Robin maddeningly, and yes, thought Regina, it looked like someone would be sleeping in the guest bedroom after all.

…

It was not an easy adjustment, moving Robin of Locksley into the castle with her. Her other Robin (not that she'd let herself see him as hers at the time) had settled right in like he'd always belonged there, so easy and gentle and unnervingly steady with her. This darker-edged version of him, however, could not seem to get comfortable.

There was no shortage of space for him to explore, but all of it closed in with dimness and walls that reached for unreachable ceilings, and he would restlessly prowl every corner and crevice as though she had trapped him there somehow, lured him in and then locked out the sun for good measure.

After years of stowing himself in wide, open barns and languoring out in the countryside, Robin could not abide by the stale air of her castle, nor the excess of a lifestyle he had never desired – clothes too stiff to move in, bathing routines when the nearest stream would have suited him perfectly fine – and her bed, it would seem, was the biggest offender of all.

He would take her there, every night, pinning her down to the mattress with his kisses and his cock buried deep inside of her, murmuring things that would make even her blush to repeat them away from this bed that they shared – that they _could_ have shared, anyway.

He would take her there, but after several sleepless nights of him sighing and tossing about – he found it unbearably soft, he told her, too much give in its plushness for his liking – he took to leaving her instead, seeking out firmer ground in places where she did not feel able to follow.

He would greet her with a kiss in the morning at breakfast, hot and tongue-filled over the curve of her throat, looking much better rested than she herself felt, and it would take more time than she wanted to warm back up to him.

She fell into a fit of sleep one night, unable to stand it any longer, resolving to explode at him if he tried to kiss her again the next day – but when she awoke, shifting around to glare at the sunrise, she found a different kind of warmth draped over her, firmly spread across her back and pressing open-mouthed over her shoulder.

"You're here." She hadn't meant for it to sound like a question.

"Nowhere else I'd rather be," said Robin, voice still rough from his slumber, "I never should have let you doubt it," and as he nuzzled further into her with a groan of content, she supposed – just this once – that staying angry with him would have to wait until later.

* * *

 _iii. sang such a loftier song_

* * *

She rose before dawn, feeling around in the dark for her things. She'd packed light; she didn't have much to her name as it was, and everything that was valuable to her could not, under any circumstances, come with her.

The rest of the forest still had not stirred – she could make out the faint whistling sounds of Little John snoring, of Will Scarlet mumbling things in his sleep – and she made it to the edge of their encampment before noticing the lone silhouette that had waited up for her there.

Robin cleared his throat, crossing his arms and leaning his weight into a nearby birch. "Going somewhere?"

 _It's been cute, watching the two of you play house in the woods. In fact, it might just make me sick – wouldn't you agree, James?_

Regina shrugged, turning on him with an eye-rolling boredom. "Look, we've had fun working together. But this was never supposed to be a permanent thing, and I think it's time for me to move on."

 _You didn't think he could actually love you back, did you? Oh, that's so…sad._

"Is that all this was to you? 'Fun'?" Robin moved forward, but something in her gaze must have stopped him, a sharpness there that she so desperately needed him to feel – if he tried to reach for her now, she thought, then she might never know how to leave.

"You're right," she said. "Sometimes it wasn't even that."

"The Queen is still out there," he argued quietly, ignoring her dig. "You know she won't stop until she's seen you dead, or worse."

 _Why don't you let me put you out of your misery, Regina? You look like you could use the rest._

"I'm well aware of the price on my head, no thanks to you." She pulled a crumpled bit of parchment from her satchel and tossed it over – one of his own wanted posters smirking up at him as he unfolded the corners, his face now sporting devil horns with a mockingly scribbled-in PRICELESS over the original bounty.

Robin stared at it for a moment before meeting her eye, looking for the first time like she may very well be a stranger to him if this had been but a game to her all along.

 _Let me know if you're interested in what I have to offer, Regina. Of course, I would hate to see anything happen to the people you care about before you've had a chance to make up your mind._

Robin shook his head, brows knitting together. "My men can protect you," he tried one last time. " _I_ can protect you."

"I appreciate the concern," drawled Regina, "but I'd been doing just fine on my own before you came along. Now, if you'll excuse me…" She shouldered her way past him, half of her burning and the other half falling apart when he made no move to stop her from going. "I have an old friend to see, and I'd prefer not to keep her waiting."

"Regina, I—"

"See you around, Robin." She'd never been one for goodbyes, and this was the last she ever wanted with him, so she didn't look back, knowing what he would see on her face and fearing the worst if she gave him a reason to hope.

(She should have known better.)

…

She hadn't expected him to follow her, which was her first mistake. Her second was that she let him.

"Is it true?" Robin asked, and she slowed her steps, looking tiredly back in his direction. "That the curse will take away our memories of this place?"

"My dear sister's parting gift to us." Regina gave him a flat smile as he came to a stop in front of her, his own expression strangely unreadable. "I'd say you can thank her for it later, but. Well." Her gaze drifted pointedly out a thin sliver of window, where storm clouds had gathered in the near-distant horizon.

Robin's eyes were steady on hers, and she found herself drawn back to them, all that deep, open blue bringing time to a standstill when he asked her next, "Will I see you again?"

Of all the possible ways that this miserable curse could unfold, the thought of Robin somehow not coming with them had never occurred to her. She swallowed past a sudden pounding in her throat, unable to find her voice for a moment.

She finally managed a scoff, shook her head as he took a step closer. "You wouldn't even remember me." There was a traitorous hitch at the end when she blinked and found him standing over her, in all of his warmth and all of that sunlight she could practically feel on his skin.

He took her face in his hands, and she reached to grasp around his wrists – not to push him away like she'd originally planned, when it was so difficult to convince herself she didn't want this, to be held by this man and not have the chance to regret it all later.

He brushed his thumbs across her cheekbones. "I could never forget you, Regina."

His lips were on hers the next instant, bruising and desperate where he had always been patient in keeping his distance from her, and this was – she shouldn't be – but they were running out of time and she knew nothing else in that moment. She stretched to her full height, body flush against his, and he moved his arms around to hold them together, hands tangling into her hair. He slanted their mouths at an angle, seeking her tongue out with his, the kiss deepening to something exquisite that threatened to lift her away.

She took his lower lip between her teeth, wanting to punish him, half-furious that he would give her this and then take it away in the same breath. His answering groan shot heat through her belly, and they separated for a brief, delirious moment, everything too much and not enough all at once.

Robin cupped a hand around the side of her neck, pressing their foreheads together as their breathing evened to something not quite so shallow, and in that space Regina's senses finally returned to her. "You should get back to Roland."

He nudged a kiss to her brow. "Come with me."

"I can't," she whispered, eyes closing again for one helpless second as she committed the feel of his lips to memory, and then her palms slid over his chest, applying the gentlest pressure until he sighed and let her go.

The curse cloud was advancing, a roil of thunder and a jagged flash of violet light that put a more urgent spring in Robin's steps as he threw her one final glance. There was something in his eyes – something breathless and infinite that she would never know how to say back to him – and she turned away before anything else could take the memory of that from her, too.

…

In the days that followed, she couldn't be sure who she was anymore. She threw everything she had into her work, into Henry, in an attempt to remind herself; but all she could think about were the things that Robin used to call her – "Milady" to show her he meant it, "Your Majesty" just to watch her bristle at his tone – and how she would never be that person again, not even "Regina" the way he liked to say it when they were alone and couldn't keep their hands off of one another.

All she could find of herself now was "Regina" the way he'd said it before letting her go, both of them breaking but resolved that they could only ever be apart – but it was fine, she would be _fine_ , if it hadn't been for the fact that she'd ripped up page twenty-three.

More than knowing it was the only thing she had left of him, she was ashamed to think about how it would have hurt him to see her destroy it, and so every day she returned to that place, searching for the pieces she'd scattered. It came back together section by section, until his face was all that was missing, leaning in to kiss her outside of that tavern.

Regina tore up the forest looking for it, finally resorting to magic, before she was forced to entertain the horrible notion that it had blown across the townline and she'd truly never see him again. Still she returned, at least once a day even though it was now beyond foolish to hope, telling herself she was getting ready to say goodbye.

They must have been just missing each other – their timing had never been great, after all – but then, as Regina was walking down that abandoned road, exactly as she'd been doing for weeks, she looked up and—

She couldn't move for a moment. "Robin?"

He was there, crouched on the other side of the line, one hand anchored to the ground as he swept his gaze over the road, searching and searching for her, a little piece of her shrinking each time their eyes would have met but couldn't.

He stared hard at the ground after some time, shoulders finally sagging in a way that made her think this wasn't the first time he'd done this, the first time he'd been here since she watched him walk away from her.

She couldn't move, and then she couldn't stop running, and he couldn't have heard her but perhaps he felt the air change, or caught a hint of her perfume, because he was scrabbling onto his feet as she ran to him, his face transformed with a smile.

She stopped when she could go no further, and then she saw what was in his hand.

Shaking, she reached for the final piece of their page, held halfway out across the town line between them, and she felt the gentle pull of him grasping onto the other side as she trailed her fingers over his face, his jawline. There were faint indentations in the paper, she noticed; Robin had scrawled something onto the back, and he let go for a moment when she turned it over for a better look.

 _You dropped this._

Everything blurred, and Regina swallowed back a wet-sounding chuckle, waving her hand over the page. _Keep it. Something to remember us by._

She nudged it forward, and he traced out the much tidier script of her message, something wistful in his expression. No devil horns this time, she wanted to tell him, longing for that fairy tale ending in a world that had never been theirs.

Robin retrieved a pen from his pocket, angling it down toward the page. She couldn't read him quite as well now, his smile losing its brilliance as he scribbled a note in return, and when he looked back up at her – _through_ her, it seemed – she realized she'd been steeling herself, waiting for all of this dreaming to come to an end.

She took the page from him, and Robin attempted another smile for her, but it didn't quite touch his eyes this time, the light in them dimming as she forced herself to look down.

 _I could never forget._

He half-raised his arm as if he could reach out and hold her again, his smile soft and warm and almost unbearable to her, to see what little good it would do either of them—

And then Robin took a careful step back, another world of distance now stretched out between them, and this was no place for something like hope, when the only thing left to say was goodbye.

…

"Gods, I missed you."

He had her pinned to the wall with the front of his body pressed along her back, shuddering into her each time she rolled her hips against the length of his cock just so, and she supposed she couldn't argue with him, but, well, where was the fun in that?

"You were not even gone a day," she pointed out, indulging in a secret smile when his hands groped just a bit rougher around her hips, exactly like she'd known they would. They mapped out a bruising path up her ribcage to grab palmfuls of her breasts, kneading them through her corset before hooking a finger into the fabric and yanking down, hard.

"We've quite a bit of lost time to make up for, then, haven't we?" He spun her around, seizing her up with his arms gripped beneath her ass for support. She thought dizzily of another time, another vault, another Robin, as he closed his mouth over one of her breasts, gems still spilling from the broken threads of her corset and plinking all over the floor.

He set her down by her wall of beating hearts, tongue trailing up her chest toward her collarbone, the curve of her throat, and there was a pleasant hum of sensation all around her, the hearts at her back and Robin – _mm_ – murmuring hoarse promises of things in her ear while she shivered. She grasped blindly at his hair, his tunic, tugging it impatiently over his head as he slipped a hand beneath her skirts and sought out the warmth between her thighs.

He slid two fingers into her, adding a third when he found her so very wet for him, his thumb rubbing deep circles into her clit. Everything went blissfully dark for a moment, and she dragged their mouths together, their kisses breaking with sharp, moaning gasps and a groan – " _Fuck_ , Regina" – as she reached down and took him into her hand.

He hiked her up by the knee, dropping his forehead into the crook of her neck and sucking open-mouthed kisses up toward her jaw as she freed his cock from his trousers. She angled the tip between her folds, sliding back and forth to coat him with her as he uttered another emphatic "Fuck" in her ear.

His lips found their way to hers again, hovering together in a not-quite-kiss, their breaths hitching as he sank into her inch by spine-arching inch. They held still as he filled her, thick and hard and _God, so good_ , and then he was pulling out and thrusting back in, building a rhythm, fucking her into the wall until she had the delirious notion that all those hearts might somehow roll away.

They collapsed in a breathless heat, all tangled limbs and half-dazed kisses that lingered, and then Robin was tugging her back and setting his mouth on her, licking and sucking and pressing into her with his tongue until she moaned his name again, trembling everywhere and pushing him off of her before it all became too much.

He had her spooned, tracing lazy circles around her belly button – still slick with their sweat – when he mentioned, almost offhandedly, "The Merry Men have agreed to officiate for us, by the way."

She _Oh?_ ed in mild interest as she stretched away from him.

"John has even recommended a ring bearer."

She wanted to smile as a little boy of about six and a half now darted across her mind, the green cape he was about to outgrow getting caught in the wind behind him.

Robin's voice was terribly careful as he went on, "There's just that minor detail where you've yet to give me your answer."

She tensed before she could help herself, half-turning toward him again without quite meeting his eye. "I thought I told you how I feel about…making a spectacle of what we have together."

"And I thought I made it clear how I feel about _you_."

She sat up, and he followed suit, warming her back and then wrapping her up from behind when she crossed her arms in front of her, though it was not the cold she was concerned with at the moment.

Robin nosed a kiss to her hair, reassuring, "There's nothing coming after us anymore, Regina," but what was the worst he had known when so much had already come before _them_? Certainly not the cruelty of Mother, or a sister she wished she didn't have the heart to forgive, demons brought out of hell and gods who—

It was better this way, not to tempt fate by flaunting her happiness, and if they couldn't see eye to eye on this matter, then, it wasn't like he had a choice anyway, he…

"Robin?" He must have felt her resisting, and she recoiled in surprise when he shifted away from her, resignedly gathering his clothes and shrugging back into his trousers.

"Here, put this on." His tone had gone strangely muted, like his thoughts had taken him elsewhere, and he didn't wait for her to finish dressing before he rose to his knees, leaving her to stare up at him with his tunic still bunched to her chest.

He was the one who couldn't look her in the eye this time, wavering in place for a painful half-second before bending down to kiss her forehead. "Let me know when you're ready, darling," he murmured, and then he was gone, and she wondered, as all those hearts beat on around her, whether hers had ever learned a damn thing.

* * *

 _iv. you loved me for what might or might not be_

* * *

Everything ached when Regina opened her eyes, like her body could not be convinced it belonged to her, and she didn't understand what was happening at first. Shadows bent and bent some more across her vision, and as she blinked to adjust, she remembered. The Queen. The apple. The sleep she had chosen in exchange for Robin's life.

Nothing cooperated with her when she tried to move, a heaviness that she couldn't quite place settled over her body, and when she looked up, she thought she had imagined him there.

Robin was turned away from her, his face pressed into her side, one arm draped over her middle where her arms had been folded together. He seemed solid enough, but there was no explanation she could think of to make sense of him actually being here, and if this wasn't real then she couldn't see what would stop her from reaching for him.

She touched a finger to his hair, as gently as she could bear it – he certainly _felt_ real, the way he shifted toward her in answer, lifting his gaze in a dazed kind of shock – and when a slow, disbelieving smile lit up his entire face, it was as though she had finally woken up after being away from the sun for too long.

"Regina?" He leaned over her, arms strong and steady at her back as he helped her sit up, and then he was grasping her face in his hands and pressing their foreheads together, letting out a shuddering breath as he did. He gasped out a laugh when she curled her fingers around his wrists, and he seemed to realize, just as she did in that moment, that she was every bit as real to him too.

He was peppering her with kisses now, everywhere he could reach, swift, fervent things that showed his relief as much as his desperation, like she might disappear again if he stopped. Regina closed her eyes, feeling him work his way from her brow down the side of her jaw, across her cheek before lingering over her mouth.

"What are you doing here?" she breathed.

Robin nudged the tip of his nose into hers. "I had something I needed to tell you."

He'd been on the ground beside her – it seemed that she'd found a way to bring him to his knees after all – but as he spoke he moved an arm beneath her thighs, gathering her up to him in one nimble motion.

"I love you," he said, as he lifted her out of her hollow tree prison, "and no, I'm afraid you cannot stop me."

Regina wobbled onto her feet when he set her back down, feeling more than lightheaded from the way he was gazing at her, and falling, she thought – swaying onto her toes as he held her more firmly against him – well, he had caught her at least once already, and not falling for him would never really be an option for her.

"I guess I should probably stop trying then," she told him, and it was worth it for his smile alone.

"I'd say so," Robin agreed, very serious, but she didn't have a chance to scowl at him before he was capturing her lips with his, half-bending her over when she arched into him with a sigh. Their tongues met and held together, his mouth moving over hers with a heat that curled up her spine, her whole body stretching to get closer to him.

His hand knotted into her hair, cupping around the back of her neck and angling her sideways to deepen the kiss. He made a hoarse sound that she felt all the way to her toes, burning her everywhere, and when they parted to catch their breath – lips still brushing over one another's, not yet willing to pull entirely away – she knew she could never settle for anything less than this now.

"We can't stay here," she insisted to him quietly, gazing around them while Robin nuzzled another kiss to her temple. "When the Queen realizes what you've done—" there was a mischievous crinkling around his eyes at that, and this time Regina managed to glare at least halfway effectively at him "—she'll come after us both, and then – _what_?"

"You said 'us,'" he pointed out, everything about him now winking, down to the very tone of his voice, but at the exasperated look that she gave him he wasted not a moment more, letting out a low whistle toward the treeline ahead.

"Ready for another adventure?" Robin held out his hand to her, and she smiled.

"Always."

* * *

 _v. nay, both have the strength (of the love which makes us one)_

* * *

She couldn't sleep.

It should have come easier, considering how tired (so tired) she was. She'd spent more than her share of these lifetimes in some not-quite-awake state of being – missing memories, missing time itself and then somehow condemned to repeat it, like that very same tree coffin she'd once used on Snow, the irony of which would not strike her until later. All those years, and all their curses, always leading one way to take Robin further and further away from her.

In the first days of his absence, she realized she had never slept so well as when she had him beside her, wrapping her up in his warmth and lulling her under before she could even know otherwise. Waging their own private war over who could be up by first light – no contest, for a man who'd been raised by the forest – and every morning would find those twinkling blue eyes smiling down at her while she blinked and blinked, always marveling at where all that light in him came from.

Always, she'd told him, once upon a time.

The moon was tucked away behind clouds when she padded her way outside, hugging her arms together to keep the breeze at bay. She should have thrown on another layer, she thought, but her senses welcomed the cold, coming alive in a way that felt like an act of defiance with all this blank, dark nothing that surrounded her.

She walked on, hardly aware of what drew her forward, until she saw him there, waiting.

He leaned his back into her tree when she approached, his gaze warming as he took in the sight of her. She shyly tucked the ends of his tunic over her knees before reaching to fiddle with the hair by her ear, something she'd never grow out of with him.

Robin smiled crookedly at her. "Looks good on you."

"There's someone I know who wears it better," she shrugged, and he tugged his lower lip between his teeth in answer.

"I suppose I can't argue with you on that one."

"I wouldn't try if I were you," she told him, a teasing echo of every uncivil thing she'd ever thrown in his direction – so long ago now, it seemed – and for a moment she wanted to lose herself in this memory of them, to run hand-in-hand for the horizon with him until reality couldn't catch up anymore.

"I miss you," she said, but still those other words wouldn't come out.

"And I you."

But she shook her head like he didn't understand what she'd meant, trying again, "Robin, I—"

"I know," he broke in gently, shifting away from her tree and coming to stand just in front of her. His hand reached for hers, glowing a faint blue and passing right through her when he tried to make contact. "I never needed to hear it, Regina. Please know that."

She nodded, eyes burning, and she hated that she had to look away from him to blink out that awful sensation, but Robin only stepped closer, ghosting a kiss over her lashes. When she closed her eyes she could almost feel him again, there with her, taking her hand as he talked about futures and page twenty-threes.

"Rest now," he whispered. "I think you already have your answer."

She woke before daybreak, moving instinctively toward the other side of her bed. It was chilled to the touch, the sheets pristine, the pillows with hardly a wrinkle, and she almost hated them for it. Why had it ever mattered at all to her whether they slept on a bed or stooped like vagrants out in the damn woods, so long as he knew – he had to know, she had to tell him—

She didn't bother searching her castle – every room told the same vacant story of a place that had never seen the sun, he had never truly belonged here – and she didn't bother with shoes when she blasted the front doors apart.

The stables were a hillock away, and she took off in a run, the momentum nearly tumbling her down faster than her strides could sustain. When she arrived she found herself breathless for entirely new reasons, unable to bear the thought that he might have already left her.

She heard a soft slumbering sound in the corner, and it took the last of her strength not to simply crumple on top of him. He startled half-awake when she brushed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, making a questioning noise before turning to meet her.

"Hi," she said, touching a hand to his jawline and kissing him again.

"Hi yourself," he returned, maneuvering back up against the hay, folding his arms around her as she scooted closer. "Did you really walk all that way here wearing this?" He plucked at the edges of his tunic, rucked up about thigh-high on her now.

"I had something urgent to discuss with you, and it really couldn't wait."

"Oh?" He gave the ends of her hair a playful tug, working his fingers through the knots that her trek through the wind had just made. "You look terrible, by the way."

She caught his hand with hers, meaning to deter him, but he only raised them to his mouth instead, planting a kiss to her knuckles. Those dimples peeked out at her, and she touched her fingers to them, feeling inexplicably shy when he pressed another kiss to the inside of her palm.

"It's all right," he told her. "I have a feeling I already know."

She made a sound of protest as he scooped her into his lap, winding her arms around his neck to steady herself as she looked down her nose at him and said, very stiffly, "I doubt that."

Robin leaned them further back into the haystacks, _mmm_ ing in a politely interested fashion, and she toyed with the back of his collar, making rigid squares of her shoulders and pursing her lips disdainfully together before realizing that she was stalling.

He cleared his throat after a moment, settling in with a comfortable groan and acting for all the world as though he intended to doze off right there, in the middle of her very important confession. Well, perhaps he just wouldn't get to hear it, if he was determined to be this uncooperative. No skin off her back, she—

"For the record," he murmured, eyes already closing, "I love you too, Regina."

She froze, wondering, but he seemed to be giving her space, patiently stroking his hands up and down her back until she relaxed into him with a shaken but satisfied sigh. It felt right, more right than she would ever believe herself ready for (always), but this man was her future, and theirs a new story, and this time – this time – there was only the hope of forever ahead.

* * *

 _subtitles adapted from christina rossetti's "i loved you first: but afterwards your love"_


End file.
